A Telling of Defected Lungs
by Deadlynightshade41
Summary: A girl named Elizabeta travels to Italy and gets her palms read, only to get an unfortunate fortune. She chooses not to worry about it, until she makes a connection. Troubling for her, this connection only came to mind after she determined her musical boyfriend is the love of her life. A little, old prologue I found. I may pick this up in the future.


**Hello! I was cleaning out my computer today and found this little prologue chapter I had forgotten about. I think what I was going to do with this story will have changed completely now, but maybe I can pick up and do some more with it. I got some ideas floating.**

 **Eventually, it will be AusHun… I think.**

The bright southern Italian sun was shining when a clock nearby chimed noon; beams graced the ancient ruins, the old tiled streets, and the 21st century trinket booths of Rome. The granite and limestone colored buildings reflected bright, crisp light. Small pathways and large piazzas buzzed alike with the noises of foreign tourists, natives, salesmen, and artists. The town, though modernized in places, still held the aura of its age if one stopped to sense it. One could imagine a similar crowd in Renaissance Rome, ever lively with the same energy.

The Piazza Navona is a great example of this description. Once an ancient roman arena, it is now surrounded by buildings, only ghosting its past by the elliptical shape. The wide piazza was home to many historical significates and was marked on most of the tourists' maps. Its repertoire consisted of the Fontana del Nettuno, Fontana del Morro, the Obelisk of Domitian, and off to the side a prime gelato shop to your indulgence.

Amongst the many there was a girl, newly turned eighteen whose dirty blonde hair shined in the sun. Accompanying her were two other females, one an older blonde and another the same age with similar color of hair. All were gathered near the Fountain of Neptune the elder checking her tourist map, watch, and itinerary hastily.

"Okay, so we have about an hour and a half to kill until we need to meet up with the group to leave. We've seen just about everything we wanted to, so if you see something we can do it." The blonde leader announced tucking away her map.

The women idly chatted a bit, looking around at the shops and thinking of ways to leisurely kill time. This is when the dirty blonde pointed to a pop up table that had pink construction paper taped to the front. "Palm Readings: English, Italian, German, and French. 5 euros" it read in black ink.

"What if we got our palms read? I mean, normally I wouldn't spend money on it, but this is money set aside for new experiences. It sounds fun," the darker blonde said as she walked to the table that sat just in the walk way of a small path.

The other young girl mumbled an 'I don't know,' but ever the follower, walked in suite.

An old lady sat behind the table on a little wooden stool. She had copper and white hairs the crinkled together, peeping out of a bandana. On her body she had many sashes that went around her shoulders and down resting on her long skirt. She looked like a gypsy, but it was hard to know for sure to the foreign group.

The old woman lifted her leathery face to the girls, "Aye! You wish to have your palms read, yes? It is only 5 euros! Where are you from?"

"America…" The two mumbled together.

"America," she said affirming the answer, "Who would like to go first? Sit down."

The girls looked at one another.

"Katyusha, you go," the dirty blonde said.

"Heck no, it scares me! This was your idea," Katyusha replied backing away slightly.

"Alright, but if I go, you have to… You too Mrs. Young," the girl said to the elder female who caught up to the pair finally.

The girl sat down on the stool opposite of the old could-be gypsy and placed her hand face up in the wrinkled one that was offered to her. The elder ran her bony fingers along the inside of her hand.

After a few minutes her lightly accented voice spoke, "What is your name and what day were you born?"

"Elizabeta Hedervary and I was born June 08," she replied plainly while looking at the others jokingly.

"You are very creative; you are strong in what you believe in. You possess charms and know how to get what you wish out of men. Though you flirt you will never break or cause harm to existing relationships or families because it is not your goal to do so. You will be successful and will be financially well off due to your ability to save. You will be successful in your career path because of your own dedication. Though your downfall is yourself," she stated without missing a beat and firm in each articulated word.

"Oh, that's… Pretty accurate," Elizabeta stated, eyebrows raised.

"You will have two children," the old lady regained her speech, still eying Elizabeta's palm, "and one happy marriage. Though you will have a happy marriage, finances, and children, a terrible negative event will happen at 37. In your forties it will consume you and your life." She suddenly stopped, then continued to ramble about general, old-age health problems that will occur.

The health problems weren't on Elizabeta's concerns though. Knowing Elizabeta has waves of negative thoughts; the part of it where these thoughts consume her in her mid-age haunted her. She expected the palm reading to half way be a joke, not a bad omen. She put on a smile though, hiding her insecurities.

She laid down five euros when the old lady had finished her series of health problems and got up for Katyusha to go. Both Katyusha and Mrs. Young went and had pretty happy go lucky readings than her own. Elizabeta began to contemplate what could happen at 37 to make her life take a terrible turn. Job? Weight gain? Perhaps her marriage? She honestly didn't know.

When all readings were done the women walked away from the old lady, saying their thanks. They were all musing at her accuracy of character analysis and foretelling, but still stating their critiques. You can always deny that you believe in hocus pocus, but there is a fringe of mystery that it could be true lingering.

"I hope that wasn't real," Elizabeta mused.

"It wasn't," Mrs. Young smiled reassuringly, "it's just a fun thing to do. They say general things, and sometimes it's all about self-fulfilling prophecy."

Elizabeta took that advice with a grain of salt. She had beliefs that some can tune into energy so well that they can describe a person and maybe even estimate their future. Not to mention, when Elizabeta was younger her mother told her a story about an old Hungarian woman, who was probably not much different than the lady she encountered today. This lady had read her mother's palms and told her one day she will meet a younger man in a foreign country and they will have a child together. A year later her Mother went to America as an exchange student, and met the girl's Hungarian-American father who was two years behind her mother in school.

But maybe these things are as her teacher said, just fun musings that we ourselves make true. Wide general statements make anything a plausible connection to the readings.

Or maybe it's a prophecy? A true telling? Maybe the ancient vibrations of the Italian capital aided the withered gypsy's reading to give the girl something honest?


End file.
